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My writing is nothing, my boxing is everything.
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A person with increasing knowledge and sensory education may derive infinite enjoyment from wine.
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He's a great writer. If I didn't think so I wouldn't have tried to kill him... I was the champ and when I read his stuff I knew he had something. So I dropped a heavy glass skylight on his head at a drinking party. But you can't kill the guy. He's not human.
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You make something from things that have happened and from things that exist and from all things that you know and all those you cannot know, and you make something through your invention that is truer than anything true and alive, and if you make it well enough, you give it immortality.
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Today is only one day in all the days that will ever be. But what will happen in all the other days that ever come can depend on what you do today. It's been that way all this year. It's been that way so many times. All of war is that way.
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A continent ages quickly once we come. The natives live in harmony with it. But the foreigner destroys, cuts down the trees, drains the water, so that the water supply is altered, and in a short time the soil, once the sod is turned under, is cropped out and, next, it starts to blow away as it has blown away in every old country and as I had seen it start to blow in Canada. The earth gets tired of being exploited.
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No writer who knows the great writers who did not receive the Prize can accept it other than with humility. There is no need to list these writers. Everyone here may make his own list according to his knowledge and his conscience.
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All a man has is pride. Sometimes you have it so much it is a sin. We have all done things for pride that we knew were impossible. We didn't care. But a man must implement his pride with intelligence and care.
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Once writing has become your major vice and greatest pleasure only death can stop it.
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War is not won by victory.
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Fish," the old man said. "Fish, you are going to have to die anyway. Do you have to kill me too?
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My,' she said. 'We're lucky that you found the place.' We're always lucky,' I said and like a fool I did not knock on wood. There was wood everywhere in that apartment to knock on too.
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But I think the Great DiMaggio would be proud of me today.
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Not the why but the what.
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Now he was proving it again. Each time was a new time and he never thought about the past when he was doing it.
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I do not need to get used to your silence. I already know it. I quite possibly love all of it.
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Something, or something awful or something wonderful was certain to happen on every day in this part of Africa.
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Drinking is a way of ending the day.
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We have very primitive emotions,” he said . “It's impossible not to be competitive. Spoils everything, though.
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Let’s not talk about how I am. It’s a subject I know too much about to want to think about anymore.
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To stay in places and to leave, to trust, to distrust, to no longer believe and believe again, . . . to watch the snow come, to watch it go, to hear rain on a tent, to know where I can find what I want.
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The world is a fine place and worth the fighting for and I hate very much to leave it.
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There is no hunting like the hunting of man, and those who have hunted armed men long enough and liked it, never care for anything else thereafter.
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Being against evil doesn't make you good.